Cheerleading
by xBleedingBlackRosex
Summary: Prompt: "Blaine loves how sexy Kurt is without trying," "how he'll try anything at least once," and "was a great cheerleader." Why I Love You series: What Blaine and Kurt love about one another.


**For the Why I Love You prompt by aunthay: ****_Blaine loves _****_how Kurt will try anything at least once (ex: cheerleading). _****And by Canadian-23:********_Blaine loves that Kurt is [was] a great Cheerio. _****And by intensewhatever: ****_Blaine loves how sexy Kurt is without trying (ex: how he moves his hips)._**

**A combo of 3 prompts – that's a record! :) Basically just some beautiful cheerio!Kurt for you.**

…

"Ah-HA! I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

Kurt jumped at this sudden outburst, as did everyone else in the Warbler Hall. They had been about to start rehearsal, waiting only on Wes. Now the Asian stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, looking obscenely triumphant.

"Uh, what?" David tried, staring at his usually-calm friend worriedly.

"Ever since you came to spy on us, I felt like I'd seen you somewhere before," Wes went on, addressing Kurt and ignoring David completely. The brunette in question looked to Blaine, baffled. Blaine looked equally clueless, although there was amusement in his eyes. "It was driving me absolutely insane!"

"You two have met before?" Blaine guessed.

"No, no," Wes waved his hand impatiently. "I saw him on television!"

The rest of the Warblers turned to Kurt in curiosity. His eyes widened. _Oh god, please don't be talking about the mattress ad...Please, dear lord- _"When?" He managed to keep his voice steady.

"Last year," Wes said excitedly. "I was forced to watch the cheerleading competitions with my girlfriend. You sang a Celine Dion medley entirely in French that won McKinley's squad Nationals!"

He was fairly certain he'd never wanted to turn invisible more than he did now.

"Oh..." His voice was almost nonexistent. "That...Yes..."

"Wait, wait, _cheerleading_?" David gaped, flabbergasted. Kurt felt like he'd just grown a third arm.

"I don't believe it!"

"No way!"

"You were a cheerleader?"

"Why French?"

"You won Nationals?"

"I want to see that!"

"Did you wear a skirt?"

"Okay, order, _order_!" David called above the ruckus. Wes moved to his seat behind the table and banged his gavel. The room fell quiet once more. Kurt desperately wanted to melt into the couch, or just get up and leave. Blaine's expression was unreadable.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Trent asked.

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped, but there was no actual force behind it. "It's all in the past now."

"Actually, it's not."

He froze. That voice was terrifyingly familiar. Sure enough, when he mustered the strength to turn in his seat and face the doorway, there stood the one and only Sue Sylvester, hands on her hips, clad as ever in a hideous tracksuit. There was that signature conniving leer on her face.

"Coach Sylvester!" he gasped, leaping to his feet. Instinct told him to make a run for it. He held his ground, though. _Courage, right?_ "Wh- What are you doing here?"

"To remind you of a little fact that may have slipped your mind, Porcelain." _Yep. Definitely got something up her sleeve. When doesn't she?_ "Nobody quits the Cheerios – either you die or I kick you off. And I did _not_ kick you off, Sunshine. I cut you some slack because of all that bullying drama, but you're still under contract with me."

"But I- I don't even _go_ to McKinley anymore!" he reminded frantically.

"Irrelevant. You're still mine. And besides, my girls are getting boring again, so I decided to take up Mr. Gavel-Happy's offer."

Kurt whirled on Wes, who clutched his gavel defensively, no doubt unnerved by being called out on his obvious obsession with the thing. "Your offer? _What_ offer?"

He had the decency to look a little guilty. "Well, it had come to my attention" – and at this, he glared pointedly at Blaine, who flushed and avoided eye contact with everyone – "that our choreography is somewhat lacking."

"Are you kidding me?" Sylvester butted in. "You guys look like robotic penguins with sticks shoved so far up your waddling asses they've punctured your lungs!"

"Ignore her," Kurt deadpanned at once. "This is just how she talks."

"Well, anyway," Wes continued. "I figured since Dalton doesn't have a cheerleading squad, and thus no coach, and Kurt already knew her, we could enlist Coach Sylvester here to help us come up with a routine for Regionals!"

"A...cheerleading routine?" Thad hedged.

"Well, maybe not with all those high flippy things, but _some_ moves could definitely come in handy! We're gonna go all out this year. We need something that's going to set us apart, put us above the bar."

David sighed. He knew better than to go against Wes when his friend was determined like this. They all knew that in the end, Wes would get what he wanted.

Kurt was still in denial, though. "You _can't_ be serious!" he said, turning to his former coach. "You think you're going to be able to teach fifteen prep school boys how to do back handsprings and pyramids?"

She bared her teeth in a grin. "I love myself a challenge! Besides, Porcelain, I've got _you_ as my assistant! Thanks for volunteering!"

"I didn't-"

He gave up and collapsed back onto the couch with a groan.

…

The Warblers gathered twenty minutes later on the field, clad in gym uniforms or other comfortable work-out clothes. Sylvester forced Kurt to get on his Cheerios outfit once more, ignoring his grumblings, and he stood by her side as she surveyed her prey. Blaine did his best not to drool when he saw how hugging that red and white material was across Kurt's chest – clearly more of a snug fit than when he'd first worn it, but in an oh-so-flattering way. Those bare arms, that red armband, those slim cotton pants...It made him grateful to be Kurt's boyfriend in an entirely new way.

"Alrighty, Garglers, let's get you stretched out!" Sylvester smirked, clapping her hands. Her voice carried across the entire football field, even though the glee club only took up a small corner of it. "Don't want you boys to tear any ligaments while we practice, now do we?"

"Is she serious?" David murmured under his breath, eying the coach fearfully.

"Sounds like it," Blaine whispered back.

"Watch Kurt and do what he does!" Sylvester commanded, before turning and giving Kurt a list of stretches to cover. He nodded once; clearly those names made sense to him, although the rest of the Warblers were lost.

Kurt then proceeded to grab his ankle and lift it straight up, passed his ear, vertically into the sky.

"Oh what the-!" many boys gasped.

"My body doesn't _bend_ that way!" Trent protested.

"It's not that hard," assured Kurt, lowering his foot and then effortlessly doing it again, slower so they could mimic him. Or try to. Blaine was too busy watching that uniform stretch across Kurt's long legs. It practically made his mind short-circuit. _When did Kurt get all these muscles, and why aren't they being put to better use? _He made it his new mission in life to get Kurt back on a cheer squad, stat.

"You're all a bunch of whiny jelly-legged cripples!" Sylvester hollered through her megaphone from the stands. Apparently she wanted a higher vantage point for this.

Kurt sighed. "Why don't we start with something simpler, then." He bent his leg and held his right foot behind him. That was easy; they did that one in gym class. They held that position for a minute or so, and then switched to the left. They then did a few basic arm stretches. _Okay, I can do this_, Blaine thought, reaching for his toes as Kurt demonstrated.

"Sweet Cheeks, I'm not getting any younger! Get to the real stretches now!" Sylvester ordered from above.

_Real?_

Kurt rolled his eyes before placing his palms on the tarmac and sliding down into the splits.

"Oh holy mother of-!" David flinched. Trent literally whimpered. Jaws dropped and eyes widened. Blaine had to clap a hand over his mouth to make sure he didn't let out the groan threatening to rip from his throat. _Oh my god so flexible what is this I can't even guh_, was pretty much all that was running through his mind at that point. How Kurt had been able to keep this from him for so long was a mystery.

"Suck it up and _split_, you pathetic bunch of worms!"

Reluctantly, they attempted to mirror Kurt's pose. Some of them – like Wes and Jeff – could almost reach the ideal split position, but for the most part they only got halfway before moaning and collapsing. Kurt just watched them, legs spread horizontally, smirking in amusement as he watched his friends kill themselves trying to force their bodies into new stretches. He clearly enjoyed showing them up at something.

It proceeded in a similar manner for the next ten minutes or so. Kurt would pull some crazy, pretzel-esque body bend, and then find great entertainment in the others' struggles. Some were better than others. None of them were as good as Kurt, obviously, but he assured them that it was all simply practice. Blaine wasn't too sure about that. By the end, he was pretty positive that he was more sore than when they'd begun. He'd stretched muscles he didn't even realize he _had_ before today.

"Alright, Porcelain, let's try for some moves," Sylvester suggested, crossing to the large speakers she'd had set up at the front of the stands. "Do you remember the routine we used for that show in Vegas last year?"

"Vegas?" Wes echoed. "As is Las Vegas, Nevada?"

"That was one of our more- um, _risque_ routines, though, Coach," Kurt pointed out nervously. "Are- Are you sure you want to use _that_ one with them?"

"Well obviously we won't be able to do it to the full extent," she shrugged impatiently. "These guys would literally break into pieces trying to do what my Cheerios do! But the moves aren't too tricky, as long as you keep their feet on the floor for now."

Blaine did not like the sound of 'for now,' but Kurt was ordering them into positions and he did not have the chance to express his concern. They were lined up in a diagonal checkerboard arrangement. Kurt took one of the spots in the front row, which just so happened to be directly in Blaine's eyesight. _This is my lucky day..._

…

"Take five, you wheezing mounds of larvae!"

Despite the insult, that was the most welcome thing they'd heard all day. Automatically, the Warblers collapsed right there on the field, sprawled gracelessly, moaning and massaging various body parts. Kurt surveyed them with his hands on his hips and a thoroughly amused smirk on his face. If it wasn't so adorable, it would have been frustrating. They'd spent the last half hour killing themselves, but Kurt hadn't even broken a sweat.

"I think I fractured something important," Trent whined.

"I swear to god my body was never meant to do that," agreed Flint.

Kurt scoffed. "Guys, I'm going _easy_ on you. If I were to treat this like a regular Cheerios practice you'd all be doing back-handsprings by now."

He moved over to where Blaine sat on the grass, legs extended in front of him as he massaged his screaming thighs. Kurt smiled gently and lowered himself down next to him.

"How're you holding up?" he asked quietly, his voice now gentle and sweet, all pretense of instructor or disciplinarian gone. This wasn't Kurt, the Cheerio; this was Kurt, Blaine's boyfriend.

"I'd be much happier with a kiss," he hinted.

Kurt chuckled, but obliged, pressing his lips far too briefly to Blaine's. "I can't wait for breakfast tomorrow morning...You're going to be too sore to move, and then you'll have to lay in bed all day covered in Icy-Hot, and I'll get to mock the bejeezus out of you and all the other-"

"Porcelain! Get your nonexistent ass over here!"

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Blaine grinned up at him. Kurt jogged over to the tracksuit-clad woman, giving Blaine a lovely view of that aforementioned ass of his. It certainly wasn't nonexistent. In fact-

_Stop thinking about Kurt's ass!_

He may have been Kurt's boyfriend, but he was no creeper. Blaine shook himself and forced his eyes away, towards Sylvester. She was barking something at Kurt – not through the megaphone, so he couldn't overhear what she was saying – and gesturing towards the Warblers. Kurt was shaking his head, though._ What are they talking about?_ Finally, Kurt threw his arms up in defeat and stalked back to the field, looking irritated and worried. Blaine immediately ran up to meet him on the sidelines.

"What's wrong?"

Kurt exhaled sharply. "Coach has decided to try lifts after all."

"And that's...bad," Blaine surmised.

"Yes. Because doing lifts with a dozen inexperienced guys is just _asking_ for a broken neck."

"Ah..." Blaine glanced around at the show choir. "Yeah, well...We promise to be as careful as possible, alright?"

Kurt flashed a thankful smile just as Sylvester blew her whistle.

"Time to throw you worthless sacks of flesh into the air!"

…

Blaine was not immune to fright.

He got nervous before his driving test. He slept with the light on after being forced to watch all the _Saw_ movies. He would jump whenever someone snuck up behind him.

But nothing scared him more than watching his boyfriend being tossed carelessly into the air like a rag doll.

_Don't die, don't die, don't die_, he chanted over and over again in his head, eyes glued to Kurt as David and Logan once more flung him skywards, an entrancing blur of red and white. He did a somersault in midair, sufficiently shortening Blaine's lifespan by a few years, before falling back into David and Logan's arms with the smallest of _umph_s. He made it look like second nature to go flying high in gravity-defying stunts.

"Okay, your guys' turn!" Kurt finally called. "I think you've seen enough demonstrations for now. David, Logan, go help Thad's group, would you?"

"Sure thing."

Kurt turned to Blaine, who'd been spotting him. "Blaine, why don't you come with m- Hey, are you alright?"

"Huh?" was his intelligent response.

"You're looking a little faint..." Kurt brushed the back of his hand across Blaine's forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, fine," he hurried to assure.

Kurt studied him suspiciously, but thankfully did not push it. Blaine knew if he said he was terrified out of his mind for Kurt's life, the brunette would take it as an insult to his cheerleading abilities. And it _certainly_ wasn't that. In less than ten minutes he'd taught Logan and David the perfect form for throwing him without injury. That was a feat even in itself.

The two of them moved to go help Jeff's group. Nick was their flyer. They dropped him twice – Trent, their spotter, catching him easily both times – before finally getting it. Jeff looked like he was about to have a heart attack everytime he hoisted his boyfriend off the ground; Blaine was glad he was not the only one freaking out.

"My god!" Nick gasped when he was set back down, a hand pressed to his chest. "Didn't realize how high it is up there! One bad tumble from that height and you're a goner..."

"Which is why I'm still against doing lifts in our routine. Imagine trying to do that on a wooden stage while _singing_," Kurt sighed. He heard a shout from behind him and turned to find a pile of limbs between a snickering David and Logan. "Guys, I said _help_ them!" he added in exasperation.

"What the hell was that?" Sylvester bellowed. "My grandfather can do better than that and he's been dead for over a decade!" She turned to Kurt. "Show them how to do it!"

Kurt resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he moved to assist the other group.

Jeff came up to Blaine. "I'm not the only one who has a bad feeling about all this, right?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Good. I just- God, something's going to go wrong! Someone's going to fall or get crushed and then we won't be able to compete and Wes will be furious and-"

"Hey! Jeff! Calm down," Blaine soothed, somehow finding comfort in Jeff's panic. "As soon as Coach Sylvester leaves I'm sure we can change the routine so it's not so dangerous. Besides, I trust Kurt; he's a good teacher. I think if anybody could help us get through this, it's h-"

"Kurt!"

His head snapped around at the cry. It had been Thad, the spotter, who'd yelled out in horror. The boy in question was being held high by Wes and Flint, but it was clear the two boys did not have a steady grip. Kurt was wobbling dangerously; Blaine saw the muscles in Wes and Flint's arms tensing. His entire body seemed to buzz with fear. _Whatever you do, do _not_ drop him from that height!_

"Find the balance, you rodents!" Sylvester shrieked angrily. "Work together! If you don't even out you'll make him-"

"Shit!"

"Kurt, _no!_"

Blaine was running towards them before Kurt had even hit the ground. Their hold on him had not been strong enough. He'd fallen backwards, out of their hands, collapsing with a decisive thump onto the field and remaining unnervingly still. Blaine felt sick to his stomach at the sight. _Oh god, please be okay...Please don't die on me! I've only just found you! Don't-_

"Kurt?" he said again breathlessly, falling to his knees beside him. The other boys crowded around them, jostling, worried faces pressed together. Blaine ignored them. He placed a hand on Kurt's pale cheek. "Kurt, sweetie, can you hear me?"

The countertenor grimaced, and moaned.

"What hurts?" he pressed anxiously, afraid to move him.

"'M fine," Kurt muttered, clearly a lie, as he opened his eyes and rolled over. He was clutching his right shoulder. "Landed funny...Probably just a bruise..."

"Unless he's dead, you all had better get back to positions!" Sylvester commanded. She was storming over, and they practically dove out of her way as she reached her star Cheerio. "Anything broken, Porcelain?"

Kurt sat up, rolled his shoulder, winced. "No, I don't think so."

She knelt next to him, testing his shoulder with practiced fingers. This was not the first time a cheerleader had been injured, after all. After a moment, she stood again and said brusquely, "Well, if you're all in one piece then let's get back to practice. If you guys don't perfect the first half of the routine by sundown I'm making you all do laps!"

Kurt groaned and flopped back down.

"Never mind," he murmured meekly. "I'm dead."

Blaine chuckled, running a hand carefully through Kurt's bangs. "Do you want me to take you to the nurse? You might have a dislocated shoulder or something."

Kurt shook his head, keeping his eyes shut but smiling a bit at the offer. "No, I'll be fine in a second, I promise. Just...give me a moment."

Blaine was content to stay there beside him, in the middle of the football field, beaming down at him as Sylvester barked criticisms at the fumbling Warblers. Kurt looked so tired, yet so peaceful. He was like an angel. A red and white angel. It was incredible that someone so talented and unpredictable sexy and _brave_ – because honestly, there were not many high school guys with the balls to do something like cheerleading – had chosen him for a boyfriend. It didn't seem real.

When Kurt looked like he was about to drift off into sleep, Blaine leaned down and kissed him. "You ready to get up?"

Kurt pouted adorably but opened his eyes. "A Cheerio is _always_ ready."

…

**In my headcanon, Blaine stands up to Sylvester and chews her out for her disinterest in others' pain. But it ended up like this. Oh well. :) Can't you just imagine all the Warblers in sweatpants, sprawled across the football field?**

**Kisses,**

**~Ripple**


End file.
